oatmeal: “Just so you know, if I ever taste like licorice? That’s probably because the previous night’s Sambuca shots have repeated on me again. Which means you’ll want to walk away from the bowl and go have yourself a muffin or something. “Trust me on this one.”
July 30, 2006
July 30, 2006
the “I once saw a hobo get hit by a Jeep and bleed out” poem (and open thread)
I once saw a hobo get hit by a Jeep and bleed out in front of a downtown Carl’s Jr. The air, I remember, smelled of urine and Seagram’s and keg beer and frat boy panic — —While for my part, I smelled of large fries and Diet Coke and jalapeno burger. Not that you asked.